


standstill

by ignitesthestars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Enemy Lovers, F/M, Fist Fights, she beats the crap out of him it's great
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6378724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitesthestars/pseuds/ignitesthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He disarms her, but Rey has never needed a weapon to fight Kylo Ren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	standstill

He disarms her.

Maybe it would have been the end of someone else, but the truth is, Rey has never needed a weapon to fight Kylo Ren. The silver glow of her lightsaber hisses out as the hilt jerks from her hands, and she doesn’t miss a beat. Her body pivots, ducking under his heaving downward stroke, a sharp elbow digging into his kidneys.

He staggers forward. There’s no finesse in the way he whirls, his whole body pitching to the side in his desperation to face her. “Surrender,” he spits. “It’s over!”

They both know she could reach out and have the double-bladed lightsaber in her hand  in an instant, but these meetings have never been about martial prowess. Rey stares at him for a moment, chest heaving, before she holds her hands out to either side of her, eyebrows raised. The only thing missing is a shuttle flying overhead with a banner screaming _come get it._

He bares his teeth at her, a snarl of frustration straining between them before he thumbs off his own lightsaber, tossing it to the side. He sweeps towards her, a wave of black and rage, and she can’t help the short bark of laughter that leaps from her chest.

He swings. She ducks again, and stubborness stops him from stepping back before her fist plows into his gut. Of course, it brings her that much closer; he grunts, and then her ears are ringing from the blow to the side of her head. She trips back, lets herself fall, kicks him in the knee through a swirl of cloth.

It slows him, but it’s still his fist wrapping into her shirt, dragging her up to face him. For a moment they’re so close, she can feel his breath puffing out against her mouth. Their eyes meet, wide and wild, and then she rears back and headbutts him. The crunch of bone is the most satisfying thing she’s heard all day, at least until his wordless shout sings through her.

He lets her go.

Her leg cuts through the air, bites into his chest. She snaps out her arm and catches him before he can fall, slamming her fist into his broken nose. He splutters blood, grabbing her wrist. Rey lets him go and drops her weight out from under her, dragging them both down.

They brawl. There’s no other word for it. Finesse has never been their strongest point. Too much power, too much emotion, too much. Her head snaps back from the force of a blow, the skin over her eyebrow splitting. She groans, feels the flash of something - concern? - through the Force before he hits her a second time, hard enough to make her ears ring.

She knees him in the thigh, tries to headbutt him again. He rears back, and she takes advantage of the momentum, shoving up and flipping them over. He might be bigger, but she’s been in more physical fights than he ever has. She fists her hand in his hair, slick with blood, and smashes his head into the ground.

“You could always–” she pants, “give up. If you want it to stop.”

He bares his teeth at her and maybe that’s a threat or maybe it’s a smile. Too late she catches the flicker of thought and his fingers, the slightest gesture crashing a wave of pure Force into her chest.

“And then what?” he calls after her, as she leaves a bloody smear across the ground. His or hers, there’s no of way of telling. “Do you kill me, Rey? I think we both know you w–”

He flies forward. He’s not the only Force user here, and her arms are free. She’s up and catching him before he hits the ground, one arm around his shoulders and almost cradling him before her hands are in his hair again and she jerks his head down into her knee. His mind whites out for a second.

She does it again. His feet work, grasping for purchase, but she can feel it in his mind, the loose thoughts scrabbling around and trying to link up together.

Rey grasps the fabric at the nap of his neck, hauling him up. Her other arm slides under his, and maybe now she is cradling him, holding him up if not close. His breath whistles through his teeth, and he stares at her with eyes somehow flat and on fire at once. She can taste the thick, hot slide of blood down the back of her throat - his? - and swallows at the same time he does.

When there’s foreheads touch this time, it’s gentle. Her body aches, but Kylo Ren–

“It’s done,” she whispers. “You’re done.”

He closes his eyes. And Rey–

leaves him.


End file.
